Page 30 of Take 2
“You sawDjango Unchained?” Rob’s eyes bulge.
“Yeah,” she says to her dad with a well-practicedduhtone.
The amount of time Cece spends laughing about Jennifer Lawrence’s fall on her way up tells me she is too drunk. Not that I mind, so I don’t know why Morgan herds her away from me.
None of us predictedArgofor best picture, but fun was had. The TVs are muted, and a clinking sound draws my attention away from Stephen. Ryan steps toward me with two champagne flutes. I remain seated on the ottoman and narrow my eyes at him as he hands me one.
“As you know, Bella has celebrated the Academy Awards since she was old enough for Vivian to allow her to watch them.”
“Probably before I allowed it, if we’re being serious.” Mom flashes a smile and enjoys the laugh from the crowd.
Ryan tilts his head. “She doesn’t break rules! Except the traditional Oscars beverage. Next year, she’ll be legally consuming champagne.” He winks at me. “So, we’re celebrating the Oscars and Bella’s twenty-first birthday and the fact that she’ll be starting at CalArts this summer so she can go to the Academy Awards herself someday.” There’s a smattering of applause, and my cheeks warm. “I’m so proud that Bella is going to chase her dreams. She’s inspired me to chase my own.”
I scrutinize his expression but don’t find any pain hidden behind his smile. His football career seems to have come to a close. He didn’t get drafted, and though he free-agented into training camp, he got cut. It was a hard year.
“And my dream,” Ryan says, directing his attention to me, “for the past three years, has been to be by your side for every triumph, every disappointment, every comedy, action movie, drama, even musical. I want to watch all the movies with you, Bella.”
I blink stupidly.What is he—Ryan gets down on one knee before me and pulls out a small box. My heart could shoot right out of my chest. I cover my gaping mouth as my eyes widen and tear up. Inside is an oval-shaped emerald surrounded by small, brilliant diamonds on a gold band.
“Will you marry me?”
Three years ago, Ryan saw me cry for the first time when Kathryn Bigelow made history. Tonight, my tears are for him—the happiest saline downpour to ever be. I throw myself at him, nearly sending the gorgeous ring flying as I wrap my arms around him and kiss him like the world is ending. “Yes,” I say between kisses. “Yes! Of course!”
Cheering reaches my ears, but it feels removed. We could be completely alone for how aware I am of other people right now. Ryan slides me back onto the ottoman and takes the ring from the box. He slides it onto my finger, and the sight of it there makes the tears start again.
“Oh my god, Ryan. I love you so much.” My free hand is pressed to my chest, feeling the rapid pounding of my heart.
“I love you, too.” He stands and pulls me up to my feet with him.
We’re inundated with hugs and congratulations. Anna gushes about us being sisters, and her presence here suddenly makes sense. Morgan says she’s glad I refused to take bathroom shots, which garners odd looks from the parents. Cece declares herself to be the “best fucking fairy godmother ever,” three years after dolling me up for that first Oscars with Ryan, and I hug her tight as she spins me around.
“You guys were all in on this.” I sniffle and wipe away tears.
“Of course,” Morgan says. “I can’t believe you weren’t suspicious when we did pro hair and makeup.”
“I assumed it’s because you’re both nuts!”
Cece beams. “We’ve been conditioning you to think that for years so we could pull this off.”
Ryan’s arms come from behind me to wrap me up and pull my back to his chest. “Shall we go?”
I spin in his arms so I can reach mine up behind his neck. “Absolutely.” I am so,soready for Oscars-dress-sex. And dress-in-a-heap-in-the-corner sex. Then holy-shit-we’re-engaged sex. By the time we’re done, my birthday will be here.
As we turn to leave, I realize it’s way too quiet. “Where did everyone go?”
“Outside, I think.” Ryan pulls me toward the door.
“Have they taken a liking to frostbite?” I’m still looking around like people are just hiding behind the fog of my elation. I need to refocus. When we get outside, my attention is pulled to lights bright enough to rival the football stadium. “What the hell?” I shake my head to get the scene to come into focus.
A red carpet lines our front walkway, complete with a step and repeat, and it leads to a black limo. I gasp again and silently curse my fiancé for making me cry so much. My fiancé. Oh my god. I gape at Ryan. “This is crazy!”
He kisses my hand as cameras snap pictures. Cece appears with a tissue, powder, and lipstick. She blesses the touch-ups that all the crying demanded, and Ryan leads me to the banner with aBella & Ryanlogo checkered across it. We take pictures of the two of us in front of it, with our parents, with Anna, with our friends. The original Oscars party crew from four years ago—when it all began—gets some shots, of course, and when my face hurts from smiling and I start to register that I am, in fac,t half-frozen, we get into the limo and wave goodbye to our friends and family.
“Ryan!”
His smile in the dim purple lights of the limo is so perfect. It’s all perfect, and it’s mine. He’s mine. Tears prickle my eyes again.
“Hey.” He draws me in to hold me against his chest. “Thank you.”
